Snow Bound
by lizandletdie
Summary: Belle's car runs out of gas and she decides to walk the rest of the way home in a blizzard. Luckily, she walks past Mr. Gold's cabin and he lets her in.


_Just perfect_ , Belle French thought bitterly as her car coasted to a stop along the side of the road. She'd been on her way back home from visiting with friends out of town and maybe she'd stayed out too late, but how was she supposed to know her car was going to run out of gas? It hadn't occurred to her that there wouldn't be all night convenience stores that far out, though, and her little hatchback hadn't been quite full enough to get her all the way home. She wasn't too far outside of Storybrooke - or at least she was _definitely_ under twenty miles and well within the dead zone where her phone didn't work. So she had a choice to make: it was supposed to snow and if she stayed in the car she had no idea when she'd be able to get anyone out there to dig her out, but her other option was to walk however many miles it was back to town and she wasn't really dressed for the cold.

Belle sighed and dug her coat out of the back seat. It wouldn't do much for her tights-clad legs or her short skirt, but at least she'd opted for boots rather than her usual heels and that should help a little. She locked the car and tucked her phone into her pocket as she set off towards civilization. She didn't have to get all the way back to Storybrooke, she reminded herself, just far enough to get a cell signal. And at least walking would help keep her warm if it did start to snow.

oOo

Robert Gold liked the quiet of his cabin. If he planned correctly, he could get himself snowed in and spend a few days completely away from civilization and anyone who might want something from him. He was a man who valued his solitude, and there was something strangely beautiful about the woods in a snowstorm - as long as there was a warm cabin and a roaring fire only feet away, anyway. He had the pantry stocked up already, and a fire banked in the living room. The only thing left to do was stand on his back porch with a mug of tea and watch the blizzard cover the woods with a blanket of white.

He'd been outside a half hour or so and was about ready to head inside when he caught sight of something moving in the distance. The woods were usually full of animals, but in this weather and this time of year? Even the deer were hunkered down for the rest of the storm. He moved away from the house towards the treeline, feeling a strange prickling feeling of something being _wrong_ creeping up his spine even as he went - something wasn't right about this at all. He saw the movement again, and he knew he'd been right to be nervous. It was a person stumbling through the woods. There were no other cabins for miles, and he was a good mile or so off the main road. There was absolutely no reason for anyone to be out in those woods in that weather unless they were very, very lost.

He grimaced, grabbing his cane from where he'd rested it against the wall of the house and made his way off the porch and towards the woods before he could second-guess the impulse. If he was being rational about this he probably should have taken his gun, but it was in the lockbox next to his bed and he was rushing out to intercept a strange shadow moving through his backyard. He was probably going to be on the news later that month when they finally found his body frozen in the snow. _Rat bastard found dead in yard, good riddance. News at eight._

"Hey!" he called out as he approached what was definitely a woman. "Are you alright, miss?"

The woman stopped and turned to face him slowly and he noticed two things at the exact same time: the first was that she was woefully underdressed for the weather in an above the knee skirt, boots, and a peacoat. The second was that she was absolutely beautiful with bright blue eyes shining out from a heart shaped face which was paler than he thought was probably a good sign. She was also shivering terribly and he didn't much like her chances if she stayed outside.

"Are you alright?" he repeated, approaching slowly. "What are you doing out here?"

"My car broke down," she said after a longer pause than should have been necessary for that question. "I thought I could get home before the storm hit."

"You didn't," he pointed out with a smile she didn't return. "Do you need help?"

"Do you have a phone?" she asked him. "I can't get any reception out here."

"There's a landline at the cabin," he said, gesturing back towards where he'd come from. "And a fire."

"It's really not that cold," she said, already stumbling towards him. "I just need to call for help and I can go back to my car."

"How far have you walked?"

"I don't know," she said. "A few hours I guess?"

That was definitely not the answer he'd wanted to hear. It had been snowing almost that long and the temperatures had been below freezing all day.

"Can I see your hands?" he asked her and she looked a little confused, but held her hands out in front of her. "Your fingers are blue," he said dully, looking at her closer. Her lips also held the tell-tale blue tint of hypothermia. "You need to get inside. Now."

"I'm fine," she said, staring at him like she couldn't quite figure out what he was talking about in spite of the fact that she was shaking like a leaf. "Really, it's not that bad."

"You've got hypothermia," he said. "Maybe frostbite. You _need_ to come inside."

Frankly, her mental state wasn't really making him feel any better about her situation but he wouldn't know if it was the cold or mental illness until she was inside and warm. She looked down at her hands and seemed to be struggling for a little bit with something before finally nodding and letting him lead her back to the cabin. Once they were inside, she suddenly seemed to realize how cold she'd been and she wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered. Now that he could get a better look at her, he saw that her hair was completely soaked through as was her skirt. Her coat seemed okay, but there was snow melting around her collar. He didn't know how much longer she'd have lasted out there, but any longer and she was going to have been risking permanent damage and a trip to the emergency room.

"My name is Robert," he said. "What's yours?"

"Belle," she said clenching her hands like she was trying to get feeling back into them. "Belle French."

"Nice to meet you," he said, taking her hands softly so she couldn't damage them with too much movement. "There's a nice warm fire in the other room."

Belle nodded and he wrapped an arm around her waist carefully, letting her lean on him as much as he could. At that proximity, he could see ice crystals clinging to frozen bits of her hair and he cringed. She was in a bad state and definitely wouldn't have lasted the night.

Once they were standing in front of the fire he grabbed a flannel blanket from the back of the sofa and guided her as close to the flame as he felt safe letting her be.

"Is it alright if we take off some of your clothes?" he asked. Her clothes were soaking wet and he wasn't even sure if her peacoat was still keeping out the snow.

She nodded, shedding her coat with shaking hands and he got his first good look at her outfit - she'd been wearing a thin pink sweater that was soggy with melted snow around the collar and wrists. Belle was struggling to pull her hand through one of the sleeves so he stepped closer quickly.

"Would you like help?" he asked.

"Thank you," she replied, holding her arms in front of her while he carefully maneuvered first one free and then the other before pulling it off over her head leaving her standing there in a lacey bra. She didn't have any injuries, thank God. That would have been beyond his skills to handle and he didn't think there was going to be much luck getting an ambulance out that far with the weather the way it was.

"Your skirt?" he asked and she nodded, not even bothering to try the zipper and instead turning so he could take it off of her. It was a matter of seconds to have the skirt pooled at her feet, and he briefly sat on a stool to help her strip off her boots and tights.

She was still shivering as she stood in her skivvies in his living room and there was absolutely no graceful way to ask a woman to take off her bra for fear she might die, was there?

"Your um…" he gestured around his own chest area and hoped she'd get the hint but she didn't. "All your clothes," he finally said lamely.

She stared at him for a long moment before twisting her hands around to her back and pulling on the straps, but her hands were shaking and she seemed to be getting confused and agitated as she went.

"Calm down, sweetheart," he cooed the term of endearment in the hopes it would help her relax but it didn't seem to be working.

"I can't," she whined, pulling again with thin arms and fingers that had an uncomfortable waxy tinge to them. He was going to have to watch her for frostbite.

"Do you need my help?" he asked at last, dreading her inevitable _yes_ almost as much as the idea that she might say no and still be unable to do it herself. She hesitated, but nodded and he slid his hands under the band in the back and unhooked it, letting it fall off her shoulders. He grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders and trying very hard to look anywhere _but_ at the naked girl six inches in front of him.

"And your, uhh...panties?" he said as disinterestedly as he could manage with all the moisture in his throat suddenly gone. "I'll get you some dry clothes in a minute, I promise."

Belle nodded bravely and hooked her thumbs through the sides of her panties, letting them drop to her feet with a wet sound that reminded him just exactly how bad a state she was in. She'd been soaked all the way through with melted snow and sweat; how much longer would she have lasted outside?

He could already see the ice crystals in her hair melting and made a note to get her a towel. It wouldn't do to let her get wet again so soon after getting her dry.

"I'll be right back," he said, not waiting for her to acknowledge what he'd said before dashing out of the room. He set a kettle on the stove to make her tea before rushing to the linen closet and grabbing every blanket he could find and a towel for her hair. His next stop was his bedroom where he grabbed her a clean t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. Once she was warm he was sure she'd appreciate the gesture, but he was feeling almost as awkward about the next part as he was sure she would. The best thing for hypothermia was body heat, and _direct_ body heat was even better. Which meant he was probably going to have to be at least partially undressed with her. He helped her form a little nest of the blankets before the kettle was screaming and he quickly poured it into a mug with a tea bag in it. He didn't know if she liked sugar or milk, but at this point it was more about the warm fluids than the actual tea so he quickly stirred in some sugar reasoning that the electrolytes would probably help if nothing else and returned to her side. She was still shivering under the pile of blankets, though the blue tint was fading from her lips and that was a very, very good sign.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, sitting on the floor next to her.

"I'm so cold," she said, looking as though she might just cry from it. "I wasn't this cold outside."

She seemed a lot more lucid now than she had been, which was definitely a good sign - especially since he very much didn't want to do this next part without her consent.

"You have hypothermia," he said. "You feel colder because you're warming back up."

Belle nodded, but didn't reach for the drink so he set it down in front of her.

"I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage," he began. "But...body heat is supposed to help with hypothermia."

She was still shivering, but she looked over at him cautiously, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of inviting him under the blankets with her.

"Okay," she said at last. "Body heat."

"It...should be direct body heat," he said slowly. "Or at least that's what's best. It's up to you."

She nodded and he tried not to feel too awkward himself as he stripped down to his boxers and crawled into the blankets with her. Between the blankets and the fire, it would have been overwhelmingly warm except for how cold she was. It was like having an ice cube pressed to his chest when he sat behind her and wrapped his arms around her body. She was still shaking even as he was trying to touch as much of her as he possibly could, even going so far as to drape her damp hair over his shoulder so it wouldn't drip on her.

It had been a long time since Gold had been that close to another person and he was surprised at how much he'd missed it. She was like a little tiny icicle, but she wasn't shivering so much anymore and that was very reassuring.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked once she was at a more comfortable temperature. "Ready for tea?"

"That sounds good," she replied. She leaned forward a bit so he could wriggle out from behind her and grab the mug from where he'd left it. She was already shivering again when he went to offer it to her.

Grimacing, Gold slid back into place behind her and held her hands steady in his while she guided the mug to her lips.

"That's really sweet," she said. "Thank you."

He wasn't sure if she meant the tea or the gesture, or why he cared. She was warming up, though, and that was the important part. She was actually becoming rather pleasant to cuddle with now that her body temperature was returning to normal levels. Maybe he should have called an ambulance, but the snow was coming harder now and the roads were still impassable so instead he wrapped his arms tighter around the shivering woman pressed against him and hoped that he'd done the right thing.

oOo

When Belle finally awoke, everything felt _wrong_ somehow. The room was too bright and too warm and she was so tired she just wanted to stay in bed forever. What had even woken her, anyway? She whimpered and tried to curl further back into her blankets, but there was a weight behind her that she recognized as being another person and that forced her to open her eyes. The person turned out to be a man who pulled away as soon as he recognized that she was awake, and Belle was surprised at how chilled she was by the loss of contact. It felt a bit like she had the flu, her entire body was too cold and strangely sore and sluggish.

"Belle?" the man said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she murmured, though speaking felt like an ordeal in and of itself. "What's going on?"

"Do you remember what happened last night?" he said softly, kneeling over her. "Do you know where you are?"

Last night...her last memory was walking through the snow. Her car had broken down and she'd tried to walk, but it was so cold. The longer she'd walked, the blurrier everything became. She did remember coming here, though, if she focused. She'd stumbled past this cabin, never even seeing the lights somehow, and this man had let her in. She must have had hypothermia, and she was lucky he'd found her.

"I think so," she said, trying to sit up. "It's all really blurry."

"You were pretty confused," he said, handing her some thin fabric and it took her a moment to realize it was clothes. Shit, she was naked.

She clutched the blankets to her chest tightly, glancing around for her clothes. They'd been completely soaking wet and he'd had to help her out of them and now they were laying in front of the fire to dry.

"Do you need help?" he asked her cautiously. "Or privacy?"

She'd like privacy, but she was pretty sure she was going to need help. Her arms felt like they'd been filled with lead and she was just _so_ tired it was hard to even care that she was naked in a strange man's living room.

"Help, please," she said at last, and he nodded and took the clothes back, setting them on the floor and slowly unpeeling her blankets. He guided her arms up and lowered a soft cotton t-shirt over her body before taking her hands and helping her to stand. Her legs felt wobbly, but she was able to stand with one hand on his shoulder as he guided first one leg and then the other into a pair of pajama pants. Once she was dressed, rather than letting her curl back up on the floor he stood up and helped her to the sofa where he quickly surrounded her with blankets again. It didn't take long for sleep to overwhelm her again, and she savored the feeling of being warm.

Belle wasn't sure how long she slept for, but sun had definitely moved when he woke her again. This time he was dressed in a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans and he had a bowl of something and a cup with him.

"Are you thirsty?" he asked, and she was but she didn't feel like drinking because that was going to mean sitting back up. "You need to drink something," he continued when she didn't answer and he gently helped her into a mostly upright position. "Can you hold the cup or do you want me to?"

"I can hold it," she said, reaching out and taking it in hands that felt nearly useless. She almost spilled the water before he put his hands around hers and helped her guide the cup to her lips. Once she tasted the lukewarm water she was suddenly _very_ thirsty and it was only his steadying hands that kept her from gulping it too fast. She hadn't really had anything to drink that she could remember since a few hours before her little walk.

"I also brought you some broth," he said a little apologetically. "I wasn't sure if you'd feel up to eating anything, but it's warm and salty and that's supposed to help I think."

She was still thirsty, but she nodded and let him feed her the chicken broth. It warmed her from the inside and she hadn't been aware she was still a little chilled until the warm liquid hit her stomach and set her off shivering again. Once about half the bowl was gone she couldn't eat anymore and as soon as she shook her head _no_ he set it aside without question.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked. She wanted to say no and let him leave her to sleep, but actually there was something.

"Is there a toilet nearby?" she asked him, praying it wasn't one of those cabins that lacked indoor plumbing because the idea of traipsing through the snow again seemed impossible, but he nodded and stood up quickly to help her to her feet.

"Just down the hall," he said, letting her lean on him even as he was leaning on a cane. It was slow going but he eventually let her into the nicest bathroom she'd ever seen.

"I'll wait outside," he said, and she thought she saw a little bit of a blush on his face as he scurried out leaving her alone.

Belle managed to pee by herself, though there was a close call where she thought she might have to call him to help her back to her feet because _that_ wouldn't have been weird or embarrassing at all. She eyed the bathtub a little bit enviously. She really wished she felt up to taking a bath, because that thing looked really comfortable and she was sure she probably smelled just awful. Instead, she washed her hands and opened the door all by herself before he was hovering and helping her back to the sofa. She was asleep again before he'd even put the rest of the blankets on her.

She spent the entire rest of that day and half of the next like that: he'd wake her to eat, help her to the bathroom, and then put her back to sleep on the sofa. When she finally woke up for good, she felt disoriented and weak and she was torn between wanting to stay on the sofa forever and the need to finally _move_ under her own power. She eventually crawled out from under the blankets and decided to seek out her host.

It was a little bit of a surprise to find him drinking coffee on the back porch, and she didn't dare step out into the snow (frankly, she would be very happy if she never saw snow again) but she still opened the door so she could at least greet him. The cold air hit her bare skin and she whimpered involuntarily at the sensation, drawing his attention immediately toward her.

"You're awake," he said simply, setting his cup down and hurrying toward her. "You shouldn't be outside without protection."

He slid out of his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was body warm and smelled like leather and something familiar which she realized must have been _his_ smell from the blankets she'd been in. It was oddly comforting and she wanted to bury her face in it for a moment.

"Thank you," she said as she slid her arms through the sleeves. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Yesterday was the only full day," he replied. "Just under forty-eight hours total."

"Oh," she said, because what else could she say to that? She'd spent two days passed out on a stranger's sofa. Luckily, her stomach took over for her, growling loudly with the reminder that she hadn't had solid food recently.

"Forgive me," he said quickly. "You must be hungry. I can cook something…"

She was about to tell him not to bother and that she was fine, but the snow was still piled high behind him.

"I don't suppose the city sends snowplows out this far right after a snowstorm?" she said hopefully.

"Not so much," he replied with a disarming smile. "Somebody will probably be by within one in a couple of days, but until then I'm afraid it's just us."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "You've been so kind and I've intruded on your home."

"There's no need to apologize," he said. "I didn't have any particular plans up here, and you've hardly been noticeable. Besides, the alternative would have involved you freezing to death in the woods and the inevitable search party would have probably ruined the solitude."

She smiled at his terrible joke just as a soft breeze picked up and went straight through her. He looked concerned as she shivered at the chill.

"You should go inside," he said gently. "I'll make dinner and you can tell me all about what brought you out this way in the middle of a blizzard in the first place."

"Sounds fun," she said. "But I should probably take a bath first if you don't mind?"

"Not at all," he replied. "You remember where the bathroom is?"

She nodded and stepped back into the cabin, offering him his coat back. He took it and followed her into the house, remaining in the front part as she made her way to the bathroom with the luxurious tub it contained. It seemed silly to trust him, but she'd been passed out on his sofa for a couple days at this point so if he did have any ulterior motives in letting her stay they probably would have come up by now and anyway she didn't have much of a choice. There was no way out of this cabin, so she should probably make the best of it. She drew a bath and examined herself in the mirror. Her hair was an absolute mess - greasy and tangled beyond recognition, and the rest of her just looked oily. There was a comb on the counter and she felt a little awkward about borrowing it, but then he had to have known she would need to use it.

Belle's hands felt stiff as she worked the comb through her hair and when she was done she set it back on the counter and examined her fingers. They looked okay, but she was starting to get a little worried about frostbite now. How long did it take before that showed up, anyway? She'd need to look that up later. She stripped quickly and checked her toes before climbing into the bath. The warm water felt amazing on her abused body, but the soap honestly felt even better. Washing away the accumulated grime of the last few days made everything feel like it would probably be okay.

By the time she was rinsing her hair out for the second time (because once was just not enough to make her hair feel clean) there was a knocking on the door that did put her a little on edge.

"Yeah?" she called out, hoping he wasn't going to let himself in. She knew there had been some naked cuddling, but that had been for medical purposes and she hadn't been entirely herself. This was different.

"I brought some clean clothes," he called from the other side of the door. "I'll leave them outside the door."

"Thank you," she replied, breathing a little sigh of relief to herself.

How was she ever going to thank him for this? And, perhaps slightly more urgently, how was she going to admit she wasn't sure what his name was?

oOo

Belle looked a lot more settled after her bath than she had before, and Robert was a little relieved to see her still in one piece. She'd been a little shaky still when she woke up, but she seemed a lot better as she dropped into a chair in the kitchen and smiled at him gratefully.

"It smells good," she said by way of greeting.

"It's stew," he replied, as he returned her smile and offered her a piece of bread which she took without a word. "And it shouldn't take too much longer."

She'd already finished her bread before he finished talking and looked at him a little abashedly as though she were self-conscious about being starving after what she'd been through.

"So what brought you out this way?" he asked her by way of a subject change, checking the pot to see if the potatoes were cooked enough. "You said something about your car breaking down the other night."

"I was at a party with some friends," she said. "It's a little embarrassing, but I let myself run out of gas somewhere down the road. It just didn't occur to me the gas stations would be closed between there and here in the middle of the night. I knew it was supposed to snow, but I was hoping I could get home before it started. Clearly that wasn't the case."

"And you couldn't call anyone."

"I was in a dead zone," she replied. "I figured worst case I had to at least hit someplace I could maybe get a signal, but I don't really think I ever looked again. After a little while my brain just sort of shut down a little bit. The whole thing is a weird blur."

He nodded and got the bowls down from a cabinet.

"That can happen with hypothermia," he said. "It's your body trying to conserve energy so it starts shutting down higher function."

"Seems counterproductive," she said in a huff. "If I'd been able to think straight I probably could have called for help before it got too bad."

"Probably," he admitted as he served their meal. "You can get pretty decent service around here, at any rate."

"Figures," she said. "I was going to die with my phone in my pocket while wearing a pair of Neiman Marcus boots. Maybe my dad was right and I should have stayed in scouts to get some survival instinct."

He couldn't help but laugh, and he let the conversation drop as she tucked neatly into her bowl polishing it off with aplomb before he offered her another which she also accepted. Poor thing must have been about famished.

The next few days went by in a blur of jokes and good company. Belle proved to be a charming companion even as she was clearly still recuperating. The day the snowplow came through he was actually a little disappointed. They'd both known it was coming, but once the roads were clear there was no excuse for her lingering any longer and waiting could only mean risking her car becoming iced into a snowbank for the winter.

She called for a tow truck and he gifted her a pair of gloves before driving her away from the town to find her car. Miraculously, it was only a little buried and it hadn't taken long at all to liberate it from the snow piled around it by the plow and the blizzard once the tow truck operator was there. That just left the unfortunate business of saying goodbye.

"I don't think I can thank you enough," she said for probably the fourth time that day. "For everything, really. You literally saved my life."

"It was nothing at all," he said because what else could he say? Leaving her to die hadn't been an option from the beginning.

"It was everything," she replied. "I really appreciated it. I couldn't have asked for a better place to warm up."

"Well, next time you get hypothermia you know where to find me," he quipped. "I tend to holiday up here."

"Are you from Storybrooke?" she asked him, and it was the first time either one of them had asked the other anything about the rest of their lives.

"I am," he replied, having dreaded this conversation. "I own Mr. Gold's Pawnshop."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I know that place. It's near to the library."

"Across the street."

"So you're Mr. Gold, then?"

"I am," he admitted.

"That's great!" she exclaimed, and he was a little surprised - that wasn't the reaction he was used to getting from giving girls his name. "I'm the librarian," she continued. "I walk past that shop daily."

"Do you?" he replied, trying hard not to let his imagination run away with him.

"Yeah," she said. "Maybe I'll swing by with coffee once the thaw hits?"

Was that a date?

"I think I could live with that," he said as he made a mental note to start visiting the library more often.

"Good," she said. "I better get going, though. It wouldn't do to need a rescue twice in a week, you know?"

"That's true enough," he said, watching her as she climbed into the truck with the driver. He'd follow her most of the rest of the way to town just to make sure she was really alright, but after that the ball would be in her court.

Damn he hoped she'd keep the promise of coffee after the thaw. Spring couldn't possibly come soon enough to Storybrooke.


End file.
